


If He Knew

by idrilsdarkwritings (idrilhadhafang)



Series: Victorious [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dark, M/M, Master/Slave, Poe Dameron Is A Mess, Post-Canon, The Resistance Is Not Nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 10:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17526773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilsdarkwritings
Summary: In which the Resistance wins the war, and Poe is given Kylo Ren as the spoils of victory.





	If He Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Slavefic
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: Title paraphrased from VAST’s “Pretty When You Cry”.

  
Saying that Ben Solo coming home isn’t the reunion that Poe was hoping for is, honestly, putting it mildly.  
  
Kriffing mildly, actually.  
  
When Ben Solo left — good as waltzed out of his life with nothing but bantha crap excuses — Poe had little mental holos in his mind of how exactly it would all end. So many things that he could picture, actually. Things like encountering Ben in a crowd, and having so many questions to ask him — did he find what he was looking for? Why did he leave Poe? Just to name a few things, actually.  
  
Seeing him be given the sentence of essentially being a possession — a Prize, in other words — to Poe by the higher-ups in the Resistance isn’t how Poe pictured the reunion. Of course, he didn’t picture everything else that came before it either. The end of the war doesn’t feel like a victory, hearing the sentence and seeing the hollow look in Kylo’s eyes standing before him.  
  
Instead, Poe doubts that he’s ever felt more lost.  
  
***  
  
Kylo is all but withdrawn on the trek over to Poe’s room. It’s like his arms are constricting himself, like he’s trying to shrink into himself. Stars, this should be satisfying. After all, Kylo Ren’s a monster. The man who broke into his mind like an unprotected house. But stars, seeing him like this...Poe looks back, really looks back at him, and sees that he’s a shell of both selves. He’s a shell of Ben Solo, and he’s a shell of the Ruthless Supreme Leader who hunted them.  
  
“I...” What the stang is Poe supposed to say? “I hope you like it here”? No, that’s just stupid. So many levels of stupid, actually. I hope you like basically being made a slave. And people would ask him why exactly he’s caring, but one, Poe Dameron isn’t that kind of person, this isn’t the person his mother raised him to be, two, he wanted the First Order punished but not like this, and three, this is _Ben._ Someone that he once loved more than anything, more than Ben Solo could ever know, and if Kylo even knew how much he loved him...well, it’s best that Poe keep it to himself. Even weighing the whip in his hands, a part of him can’t imagine using it. One, he’s not the type, and two, he loves Ben too much to do that to him.  
  
(Love and knowledge of what Kylo’s done, including to him, seem to not be mutually exclusive, and Poe hates that he still loves this man, for what it’s worth)  
  
He lays out the rules. Up to and including that there’s parts of Poe’s room that are off-limits — things that he doubts he wants Kylo to see. Up to and including keeping his love for Ben Solo under lock and key, never to open it.  
  
Some things aren’t meant to be seen.  
  
“You’ll be given a separate place to sleep,” Poe says. “Unfortunately, there’s not enough beds in here. Y’know, restrictions and such.”  
  
“Really, now?” Kylo says. Poe has to appreciate that there’s still a spark of the man he was in there, if at all. A spark of that old wryness.  
  
Poe continues. “We’ll have to make a place for you to sleep, at least.”  
  
A nod.  
  
The blankets and pillows are a crude arrangement, but they’ll do. Poe doesn’t know what exactly he would do with Kylo in his bed, really. It would bring up too many questions — too many things that Poe isn’t ready to answer yet. “You’ll join me for dinner later. The General’s gonna go over the rules in the mess hall.”  
  
***  
  
Prizes don’t eat with their Masters. That’s one of the rules that the Resistance has laid out. There’s others too, of course, rules that just seem ridiculous to Poe. Maybe they make sense and he doesn’t know it. He’s not sure. Even as the Masters eat and talk among themselves, Poe can’t help but pick at his food. With Poe as the General’s successor, he gets special standing, eating with the General and other high-ranking members of the Resistance.  
  
He looks back at Kylo, who’s all but hedged in with Hux — Hux, who’s sporting some fresh bruises. Poe can only assume that his Master gave them to him. Kylo’s picking at his food, not even responding to Hux’s attempts to get a rise out of him, and somehow, it doesn’t feel like a victory.  
  
“He deserves it, Poe. You can’t help him.” That’s what the General says. “No one can. Besides, people like Kylo Ren love no one.”  
  
Poe swallows. “Ben did,” he said. “Once upon a time.”  
  
***  
  
It’s back in Poe’s quarters that they sleep — BB-8 powering down for the night, Kylo tangled in the blankets that Poe’s set up for him. General Organa’s words ring in his ears, _People like Kylo Ren love no one._  
  
And what of Masters? Poe loves. But can he? Should he, could he?  
  
Can...  
  
Poe looks down at the sleeping form of the former Supreme Leader. For a moment, he can fantasize that they’re lovers in a galaxy where Resistance and First Order don’t exist. But the “small” detail of Kylo sleeping on the floor undoes that fantasy pretty quickly. Breaking the rules is something he needs to do...but he doesn’t want to invade Kylo’s privacy. Not really.  
  
Can he do this? Should he do this? Poe doesn’t know.  
  
He lies down, dreams, and his dreams are scrambled things, wondering where to go from here.


End file.
